Apricots and Belle Flowers
by DEEPEST
Summary: The Turtles spend time at Casey's Grandma's Farmhouse for a short vacation with their friends. Their newest friend, Belle, is accompanying them for the first time. Leonardo isn't feeling so well, and his unusual feelings for the strange new girl are making this family vacation just a little more complicated than it needs to be. - Dedicated to Leo's Buddy.
1. PREVIEW

# PREVIEW: Apricots and Belle Flowers #

I breathed the air deeply in the relative silence. My brothers, April, Casey and I were scattered over the front porch of the farmhouse. The temporary reprieve of their usual noise and chatter partly due to the dry summer sunlight which beat down on all of us in the late hours of the morning. But more likely due to the presence of Michelangelo, who stood erect and oddly out of place about a metre's distance from the porch steps, facing us. All the while with his hands clasped firmly behind his back, and the wildest, most worrisome expression in his wide, sky-blue eyes which resembled vaguely that of either a very spoilt and mischievous Jack Russell, or the Shredder gazing upon a feast of de-shelled and deep-fried ninja turtles. He was happy, that much I could tell, by the way he beamed at each of us in turn in that disconcerting, cheshire grin of his. His actions switched fluidly from snickering like a Hyena with a blocked sinus and rocking on the balls of his feet. He was waiting for something. For someone to snap out of their hesitant reverie and somehow work up enough courage or stupidity to ask-

"What'cha doin' there, Mike?"

The rest of us groaned. It was Casey, acting more with the 'stupidity' qualification of saying said question, the only one of the seven of us currently sitting before our youngest brother who didn't seem to grasp the extent of Michelangelo's antics, and would dare to ask. Not including Master Splinter who was actually standing up, with the aid of his walking stick, to the left of me where I sat at the left side of the wooden stairs leading to the front porch. The old rat probably would have asked eventually, despite the chilling stare which was all too familiar for every one of us. All of us, except for Casey Jones, it seemed, had learnt long ago that with the nunchuck wielding turtle, some things were just better left alone.

"Weeeelll..." He began with an exaggerated eye roll, and batted his eyes in this falsely innocent way which set my face in a deadpan. "If you _reeallly_ want to know-" Raphael cracked his knuckles menacingly somewhere behind me. "-Since we _aaalll_ have to have turns planning a contest each time we come here, THIS time it's MY turn and I have a totally awesome idea whichyouguyswill_LOVE!"_

Some time during his brief explanation he abandoned his terrible innocent act and began waving his arms in the childlike manner which he was known for. He leant forwards prior of his outburst of enthusiasm, his breathing hyperactive and his eyes sparkling at all of us even when my other two brothers and Casey immediately protested in defiance of his new role of temporary authority.

I groaned at their noise, continuing in full tilt after the short respite. Mikeys ideas, while not always the smartest, always ended up being the most fun for everyone on these vacations, and almost always ended with everyone penting up enough excess adrenaline and energy to give the Battle Nexus Champion himself a run for his money. As such, I wouldn't have usually been so against the concept of my most energetic brother being in charge of the days activities. But I found myself becoming slowly drained, feeling weary even after what felt like a reasonably good nights rest and an even better serving of April's famous high-sugar packed chocolate-cake waffles. I smiled in silent amusement as Michelangelo waved a pointed index finger in front of him, tutting from pursed lips as Raphael in particular grew increasingly frustrated at the circumstances. I sighed, applying slight pressure to my shut eyelids in the hopes of feeling a little more awake. I wasn't entirely sleepy, either. But slouching forward instead of keeping better posture, resting my arms on my bent knees, my feet placed solidly and heavily on the stair below me, I was certainly not feeling my usual stoic self. I sighed again, shielding my dry eyes from the bright light of the New Hampshire countryside. Why am I so _tired?_

"Ok, ok, that's enough guy's, seriously." I raised my eyes to my youngest brother once more as he fanned his hands downward, delegating silence from his audience. His smile was as warm and obnoxiously toothy as ever as he continued after everyone had become quiet once more. "Now I know I may not have the _best_ ideas, but this is a good one, I promise!" He didn't seem to let the low mutterings of disbelief falter his speech, which from the sound of it he had spent some time in front of the mirror preparing for. After clearing his throat, he began in a near-perfect impersonation of James Bonds' M16, "I have called you all here today under dire circumstances which require immediate responses." I blinked at him, my attention fading fast under the influence of the hot sun. I gave my head a little shake, and tried to pay more attention to his words then the pattern of shadows that the sun made on the little ridges of his shell as he began to pace. As my little brother continued in his monologue, every statement falling from his practiced mouth implying more and more towards a non existent matter of national importance, I let my eyes wander to the other occupants of the wooden porch steps on which I currently resided. My gaze first rested on Donatello who was sat to my right and staring strait forwards on the step directly below mine. Don, being pretty much the only turtle interested in said matters of national importance, was attentive but fidgety. His knees swaying side to side with his hands pressed between them as he slowly gained interest in the, albeit clichéd, prepared speech. Casey, the loveable simpleton, was hooked. Sitting on the same wooden step as myself, but on the opposite side of the small staircase, the hockey player was leaning back comfortably on his elbows, remaining still with his mouth slightly parted as he digested Mikeys words like he downed Thai Sweet Chilli Doritoes. Raphael was behind me, I knew. Leaning against the arch of the front door to the house, under the shade of the overhang. I didn't look for him, for I heard the tell-tale singing swoosh of one of his zai as he twirled it between his fingers. I knew just by that distinct acknowledgement that my immediate younger brother was paying attention, but overall disinterested thus far. Squinting against the light, I looked up to my Sensei where he stood beside me, his ears drawn back slightly in mild paternal annoyance at Michelangelos continuous speech. Blinking again, my gaze was drawn back to ahead of me, where Donatello now rested his chin on one closed fist, and our youngest brother standing proud and tall with his finger waving a foot above his head with the air of absolute, world-scale dominance about him. I stared at him for a few seconds, attention running on empty, his mouth running a mile a minute at that point. It HAS been going on for a while longer than it probably needs to, I thought hazily, agreeing with my Father internally on that point. I'm surprised that Raph hasn't-

"Get'ta da freakin' point, Mike!"

-snapped...yet...

I sighed again. I am _way_ to slow for my tastes today.

"Ok, ok!" Mike hushed, not at all phased by the abrupt interruption, his intentions finally in the right place for our vacations competition. I shook my head once more, wanting to know exactly what I was up against. "You all know that I like cooking, right?"

This was met with both half-hearted murmurings of agreement and a resounding "Yeah?"

"Well," Mike continued, "I figured now we're, like, out in the wild, we can-"

"Sorry to interrupt, Mikey, but I just realised Belle isn't here."

Our heads all turned towards Donnie, his hand raised politely out of old homeschool habits, in varying expressions of surprise. I actually started. I hadn't realised Belle was not with us. April was frowning in concern for the only, and the first ever, other female member of our party, green eyes glancing vacantly towards the open front door from where she sat leaning against the support of the wooden railing. Mike exclaimed in an upset tone,

"Dudes, how are we supposed to compete when Bellie's M.I.A?" His eyes also looked pointedly at and around the inside of the unlocked farmhouse. It wasn't unusual for her to be missing in action, but it always came as a bit of a surprise when she, intentionally or not, managed to evade our family of master ninjas.

Master Splinter hummed, not entirely surprised by Belles absence, and stroked his short whiskers in thought, considering a brief search for the missing girl indoors. "Perhaps..."

Weariness momentarily forgotten, I rose to my feet quickly, stumbling only slightly as I turned on my heels and started towards the open door. Silently volunteering to look for the girl in question. Casual discussion erupted from where the group had left off behind me as I blinked under the lower light of the shady front porch, I glanced at Raphael as he still leant objectively beside the entrance to the house. Sai in hand he raised one brow at me in a slight smirk, one that I was seeing quite often lately and which obviously held some form of mock amusement and silent understanding. I couldn't understand that knowing smirk for the life of me, and I was getting increasingly frustrated at it's recurring appearances.

Glaring at my red-banded brother as I passed, I shrugged off my annoyance for the time being as I entered. Sheltered from the dry summer atmosphere, I glanced quickly over the living area and into the small kitchen before crossing the room and taking the stairs two at a time to the bedrooms. The bathroom door having had been wide open, immediately expelling the chances of Belle being in there, I turned right and walked down the short hallway. Paying no mind to the ancient, retro portraits which hung on the wall to my left, I started towards the room which she alone occupied.

Second door on the right.

She would never invade someone else's privacy. She wouldn't step one foot into someone elses space without their knowing.

I stopped, facing the door, and knocked.

"Yeah?"

Of course, she didn't see the threat in letting someone else go into her space without her knowing, particularly the devastation of Michelangelo. She never said 'come in', like she was giving the required permission. Any one of us was allowed in her living space at any time, and she expected us to know that.

I always knocked, anyway.

"Can I come in..?" Her name slipped away from my tongue. I mentally chided myself at my sudden forgetfulness. Belles name was so familiar to me, so distinctive. So why did I choke?

"Of course, Leo." Her voice came drifting through the old wood of the mahogany door, a gracious little laugh came with her words at the same time. Like she had thought I knew that I didn't need permission. Like she knew that I would ask anyway.

Swallowing minutely, I wordlessly pushed the door open, just enough to squeeze through, and closed it behind me. For all her generosity of her shared space, she never liked leaving the door open.

The room was a small one, having used to belong to Casey's mother when she was young. The bed was unmade, Belles suitcase had been pushed out of harms way underneath it, and the window was open just wide enough to let air pass through with the faintest breeze. She must of heard the commotion on the porch, so why..?

After a quick glance at the left side of the room, where the windows and bed resided, my gaze finally fell upon the young woman knelt purposefully on the worn carpet at the far side of the room. Surrounded by a damp cloth, a small plastic trashcan, paper towels and a few squeezy bottles of chemicals, Belle looked up at me with two shades of guilt just lightly shadowing her fair face, and a warm, silent thanks for my courtesy was blatant in her strange, blue eyes. Locks of her hair hung buoyant over her shoulders, thick and curly as she bent pressing damp paper towels to a spot on the old rug beneath her.

A moment of silence passed between us. Then two.

Then I gestured towards the stain she was attempting to prevent, and said,

"I should really keep you under surveillance. I mean, had I known that _this_ unholy accident would befall us, I wouldn't have left you alone."

And she laughed, catching my tease. But her head still hung just a little lower. As her gaze wandered from me to flicker warily across the wall to my right, I felt a little pang of regret.

"Sorry. I spilled the uh..." She tilted her head in the general direction of a semi-large porcelain mug which I recognised from earlier in the morning when April had busted out some hot cocoa and marshmallows for the heck of it.

Sensing her apprehension, I strode across half the length of the room towards her, talking as I went.

"No, no. Don't worry, it happens to the best of us." Coming to a stop, I looked down on her. She smiled softly, her eyes glazed, mind elsewhere as was the norm. I smiled down at her as well, her vacant expression one that I was used to seeing on a daily basis. Looking into her eyes then, I wondered if she actually registered my smile.

Releasing a breath, diverting my gaze, I acknowledged that the others were most likely waiting for us outside. I told her as such, then, as I stared about the room. And stressed that we should get down there quickly.

"I'm sorry," She said again, picking up the cleaning products she had placed. "I didn't want it to stain."

"That's understandable." I replied, the weariness I was feeling before returning unexpectedly quickly as I waited. Something else occurred to me, and I asked abruptly. "Why didn't you tell one of us where you were?"

She faltered in her movement. "I...uh-" She started, blinking assuredly at the air in front of her. I had winced at the unintentional harshness of my tone even as I had spoken, and I turned to her again. She looked at me curiously, head tilted just slightly, at my sudden turn of behaviour. That was Belle. No questions asked. She watched and waited on the sidelines, learning and gaining understanding from a distance with the tact of a natural introvert. I must have sounded pretty accusing. I raised my hands in both defense and reassurance as she rose from the floor with her usual uneven grace, watching me intently, unnervingly without knowing it with those interesting eyes.

"Not that... you did it on purpose, of course. I was just wondering." I was hideously reminded of how Casey had blustered around in front of April when they had first started dating. I didn't have the motive to consider why I would refer the two lovebirds O'niel and Jones to myself and Belle at the time. It didn't really seem that relevant, and I didn't second - guess myself.

Seeing my concern and ignoring my awkwardness, Belles reassuring smile was genuine.

"No worries, Leo. I just wanted to take care of it quickly." She explained shortly as she glanced back, accomplished, at the spot on the rug which was damp with chemicals, and no longer wet with hot chocolate.

I shook my head at her, too quick to both apologise and to forgive, and lead the way back down through the house and out onto the porch, updating her along the way about what she had missed. As we emerged from the house, we were met with a series of mild greetings and questions about 'why we took so long' and etc. which didn't seem very important. I was suddenly reminded of how drained I actually was when I made to cross my legs gracefully into lotus position on the lip of the porch, but found my torso become heavy once more, and I couldn't be bothered to work my core into keeping a strait back. I settled for my previous sitting position, and I watched from my peripheral vision as Belle knelt onto the shaded deck out to my right, protecting her fair skin from the sunlight. My breath hitched as I caught her shoot a glance my way, and I lifted my head as she locked on my eyes. She stared for a few seconds unashamedly. That same intense gaze which sucked my focus into the deeper waters of her iris's. She saw something in me, in the very air around us, which I did not. I wondered of her intelligence, so obviously on a different dimension to mine. Of why she resolved to saying hardly anything, ever, when she had a trove of experience, a world beyond what I understood hidden beneath those inviting, turquoise seas.

Then she blinked. And her shoulders shrugged reflexively as she smiled shyly, head turned away, golden bush of hair concealing her face from mine. Her gaze lingered, then snapped away as Michelangelo called once again for attention.

I turned my head away in a daze. Blinking slowly to bring back some moisture to my sockets, I decided that things I did not understand were better left avoided for the time being. Even as I felt a faint tug in my chest, I let my focus zero in on my youngest brother, abandoning my thoughts. Tired, but feeling a familiar buzz in my veins as the competition we had been waiting for drew close at last, I listened intently to my brothers words.

"Now," he said, "What was I saying?" He scratched his head in thought for a moment. Then he smiled widely and snapped his fingers in triumph and excitement for his challenge. "Oh, yeah!"

Stance wide and thumb and forefinger pressed confidently to his chin, he grinned impishly and asked, "Have any of you dudes ever watched Bear Grylls?"


	2. Authors Note (Quick)

A short message just about upcoming chapters and what exactly my story entails.

Basically, after the preview I will be starting the story anew from the actual beginning. And not from the chosen plot point somewhere around the middle, just to be clear. No, the preview you have seen will not be repeated in the upcoming chapters, but depending on what _you guy's think_ ) I may or may not describe that particular plot point from another character's POV.

Otherwise, this is my first _ever_ published story. So reviews are welcome, encouraged and appreciated greatly. Be nice!

Catch you guys later!


	3. Chapter 1: My Family

Chapter 1

I calmly refrained from saying anything about my youngest brothers' antics this early in the morning. At least, I wouldn't call him out right away, since I was standing directly behind him as he attempted to shove a number of unnecessary garments and other odd belongings into an engorged suitcase which sat on the bed in front of him.

Every few seconds, he would grunt, whine, or flat-out curse as he stuffed in one object after the other, having to apply much body weight into the tight packaging of his chosen luggage. Considering Michelangelo's behaviour during training for the past couple of weeks, I had decided when I had woken up to the sound of one of his more colourful curses in the room beside mine that to sneak up on him in his private quarters was ,indeed, _not_ the wrong thing to do. And to wait in complete ninja-silence until he either turned around or finally noticed the shallow breathing down his neck. Not unlike what he would probably recognise from one of the late-night horror movies which gave him nightmares was, most definitely, a _completely_ reasonable punishment for disturbing his big brothers beauty sleep on his day off. Let alone at 4:15am on a Sunday.

Better me than Raph, anyway. He should thank me.

Mikey straitened at last. An indignant "Hmph!" huffed in his chest as he glared daggers at his overflowing suitcase. He breathed deeply, and I could virtually see the cogs in his head turn as he regained his breath from a particularly violent struggle to fit what looked suspiciously like leftover chocolate mud cake wrapped in thick layers of cling film on top of his game guy, a heavy winter jacket, and a bag of pre-popped pop-corn. No doubt this was the first glimpse of his stash of junk food for the trip which he most likely wouldn't share with anyone.

Having to have seemingly made up his mind about something or other, I watched in mild fascination as the turtle in orange cracked the cartilage in his fingers, and then his neck, and proceeded to jump lightly up and down on the spot. Getting loose. I smiled at my sibling's back as he bent his knees in preparation, shifting his position until he was satisfied with his angle. This was the perfect opportunity.

I sensed rather than saw the muscles in by brother's legs tense, ready to pounce on the offending compartment. Just as he drew in a long, slow breath to steady himself, an act of patience and focus which I only wished he would exhibit when it was needed, I leant forward as close as was possible without coming into contact with the back of Mike's head and whispered,

"_Michelangelo_."

I wish I had recorded the unearthly screech which projected from his throat at that moment. Donatello could have slowed it down digitally and heard the whispers of some ethereal, otherworldly entities or something.

The speed of his mask tails as he snapped around in fright would have left whip marks on my face if I hadn't had the forethought to retreat back a couple of steps to avoid bodily harm. In a wild panic, Mikey struck a Bruce Lee pose about as menacing as a kitten to fend off whatever devious creature that had come to eat his brains. He visibly began to breathe again when he caught sight of me a few feet in front of him. He didn't relax entirely just yet, though.

"LEO!" he shrieked. "_Whyyy _would you_ do_ that to me, bro!?" His voice carried the long-suffering sorrow of every mistreated baby brother who ever walked the earth, and I just couldn't help the snicker which tickled the back of my throat at the look of pure misery on his expressive features.

"Sorry, little brother." I said smoothly, my composure stone cold. "Next time maybe sugar-coat the cussing and you won't set off my radar."

"Oh, _Ha-ha!_ Everybody tease Mikey just 'cause he's got the _best vocabulary_!"

"What are you doing, Mike? Do you know what time it is?" I brushed off his statement in favour of chiding him for his inconsideration, as was in my job description. I spared a glance at the pile-up on his bed covers and kept my gaze on Mikey. His aura had lightened considerably as the tone in his voice ricocheted back to the self-imposed humour that he was known for.

He looked at me as though I were stupid. "Dude." He said. "I'm _packing_." When I didn't respond to his blunt explanation he continued as though he were explaining the laws of physics in layman's terms to a cave-man. "Y'know, _packing_. You put the _things_," He picked up an unattractive pair of underwear suggestively, "In the _baaag_." He dropped them on top of the possessively packaged leftover cake. He could keep it, honestly. "Bbaahh…" He articulated. "Baaaag. Get it? Baa-"

"I get it."

"That's good. Just makin' sure."

"Mikey I meant why now, of all times? We're only leaving at noon. That's almost eight hours away and everyone is sleeping."

"Pfh." He shrugged dismissively. "So what if I'm not sleeping? You're up too, and I'm not disturbing anybody." He made to turn back to his luggage issue, but I pinned him with the implication of what I said next.

"Mike, you woke _me_ up. That's why I'm here." I elaborated with the patience I prided myself in. One certainly needed it when having a discussion with this brother.

"Oh." He recognised his misreading. His eyes flickered against the bright light of the single lit lamp which he kept on at all times. He countered my clarification with his own, "Dude, that's only 'cause ye'r, like, ultra-ninja! Anything could wake you up, bruv'."

I sighed at the assumption which all my brothers and more had referred to at least once in our lives. Despite popular belief, I slept like a rock most nights. If anyone, I resolved, in this family is a light sleeper, it's Donnie. It was often times hard for the genius to shut off his brain long enough to get a full night's rest. He always slept his best after completing one of his many initiatives and inventions, and this objective was often only reached after many days, sometimes weeks, of hard work in either the garage or the secluded section of the living room dubbed as his 'lab'.

Had I been keeping consistent with my own sleeping patterns those last few days, I wouldn't have woken up by Mikey's noise at all.

With that thought in mind I bid Michelangelo a good rest, emphasising my insistence on him going straight back to bed and continuing packing in the morning, ("It _is _morning, dude." "Go. To sleep.") I returned to my futon with slow steps. Fully intending on sleeping until my alarm clock rang at 7:00am.

I made a beeline for it when I closed my bedroom door behind me. In the darkness, the red light of the digital clock just faintly illuminated the faded stone wall behind it, and the oak wood writing desk on which it perched. I read the time.

**4:32 **

Sidestepping to the left, I crawled under the covers and pulled them up under my arms and over my chest. My futon sat parallel to the wall, opposite the door. It made for an easy exit in case of emergency. I exhaled through my nostrils as I stared blankly up at the invisible ceiling. The contingencies of having a world out to get you were not what anyone would want to get involved in. Karai and her lackeys were not a major threat given the unexpected decrease in activity from her side of the playing field.

This fact meant more than just safety for us, although for that we were certainly grateful. It meant by extension that we had no fear in leaving New York for a short while in search of the tranquillity that the Jones' Farmhouse usually gave. We tried to go as often as we could, and made to leave for North Hampton every three months to spend one week in the country for every new season. It was summer now and everyone had been excited to leave for the past couple of weeks, April and Casey included. The hard-headed two always made time to accompany us, having become vital to the running engine of the Hamato family. With every crazy new obstacle that the world pushed in front of us, we always seemed to make new friends, expanding our family out of respect and gratitude. But the two humans who had first welcomed us into their lives had always been our closest friends, and had been with us through thick and thin. We delighted in their prolonged company whenever we left for Casey's Grandma's Farmhouse.

_This time, though. This time will be different._

I made an effort to slow my breathing right down. Closing my eyes, I thought of nothing but the dull buzzing of activity in my brain which kept every muscle in my body from moving as I drifted into a light meditation.

Inhale.

Exhale.

I lowered myself steadily into unconsciousness.

The next morning found me the first to be seated at the kitchen table. Sipping Jasmine tea and skimming through yesterday's newspaper while I waited for my siblings to rise. As I gazed through an uninteresting article about whose 'wealthy husband' did 'what' with 'someone else', I mentally checked off the most important things that I would have to pack for our vacation.

_Toothbrush. Toothpaste. I don't need a hairbrush… My swords. My sword polish and cloth. Spare toothbrush…_

Why did Mikey need a winter coat?

"Mornin'…"

I looked up to see my immediate younger brother sitting himself down with a very un-ninja-like 'thump' into the chair opposite mine. While Raphael both slept and snored like he had no conscience, he still had trouble waking up in the mornings.

He was in a good mood, though, and for good reason. Raph relished any opportunity to get out of the lair. And looked forward to our family vacation every season, making visible improvement in his attitude every day we left for the country. It didn't usually last all the way to the farmhouse, but I always appreciated his effort, anyway.

"Good morning." I replied. I got up from my seat to retrieve some bowls and cereal from the cabinets, knowing he wouldn't do it otherwise. My eyes raking across the selection of breakfast foods in the cupboard, I picked out standard cornflakes and some fruit loops for Raph to get some sugar into his system. Not the healthiest choice for a turtle, but the guy lifted weights by the hour, and would burn it off by 10:00. With our special brand of regular exercise, we could afford some extra calories.

I sat back down with a little less finesse than normal, but Raph didn't seem to notice as I placed the boxes along with a jug of milk in the centre of the table, sliding his bowl and spoon over to him with little resistance from the worn tablecloth.

Shaking out of a sleepy daze, Raph uttered a "T'anks" as he filled his bowl to the brim with the proffered items and began munching down with loud slurps and crunches that our Father had long ago given up reprimanding. I had grown up with it, and paid it no mind.

Predictably, Donatello was the second sibling to make himself known. Having entered from the direction of the garage and not the bedrooms, I surmised that he had become quite acquainted with the daybed that he had installed in there. I wouldn't have been surprised if he one day up and asked if he could move all the stuff from his room into the garage. Donnie's commitment to his machines was only surpassed by his commitment to his family. And that went for all of us.

Smiling at my passive brother as he entered, I gestured towards the coffee maker which was already brewing a pot of liquid fuel for him. Smiling his thanks, Don was across the kitchen floor in three short strides to pour himself a cup as it dinged its completion. His brain was on a near-constant overdrive, but Don needed his brew to make passable sentences first thing in the morning.

Sipping my cooling cup of tea beside my brothers two minutes later, I silently enjoyed the comfortable silence which hung over us in wait for the day's activities to be set into motion. It would be a long one, after all.

The muffled grunts escaping through the crack in Michelangelo's door was the first clue to the continuation of his affair with his over-packed luggage. I gave no explanation to the looks of mild bewilderment on my present siblings, but stood once more to clear the table and make way for what was sure to become a bomb site when Mike finally made an appearance. Our brother wasn't exactly 'all-or-nothing'. But he was definitely one to take things a bit too far in a short space of time, and Mikey loved cooking breakfast.

"What in 'da hell is he doin' in there?" Raph exclaimed suddenly, and with some traces of disgust and concern mingling in his gruff tone. It was more rhetorical than not, but Don still replied.

"I don't think it's anything bad. I think he sounds more agitated than… anything else."

"Yeah. You better not go 'dere, Genius."

The light flush of Don's cheeks gave away what the mechanic was thinking Mike might otherwise be doing alone in his room. It certainly wasn't what I would want to think about, either. I drew a sort of comfort from the fact that I knew exactly what Mike was actually getting up to, and it wasn't what my shy second-youngest brother was dismissing.

"Mornin' Dudes!" We collectively greeted the turtle in question as he made his way noisily down the metal staircase to the living area, and wobbled his way over to us with a monstrous pack mounted on his shell.

I glanced briefly at Raphael to see his reaction. Just as I was, he seemed nonchalant about the ordeal, and raised a single brow. Unimpressed at the display. Don, ever curious, asked what Mike had been doing in his room. It was just out of the corner of my eye, but I saw just a minute shift in Don's throat which signified that he was holding his breath. Cheeks still tinged slightly darker than normal for his olive skin.

"Dude." Mike said, staring at Don as though he were stupid. "I was _packing_. Y'know _packing_. You put the _things_, in the _ba-_"

"_So. Anyway._ Do you want to make breakfast or not, Mike?" I placed a steady hand on Donnie's shoulder as Mikey lit up at the prospect of cooking. Grinning impishly at me as he passed on his way to the refrigerator, he winked to let me know that he'd noticed me disrupt his joke, one that he'd probably been saving since hours ago. I knew that he'd probably get me back in one way or another later on. I couldn't be sure, since one thing these vacations did for Mikey was make him a little more unpredictable than normal. That coupled with the jokester in him meant that there was bound to be adventure wherever he was concerned.

Don let out the little breath he was holding and looked up at me with a smile, which I returned. He could be playful if he wanted to be, especially with Mikey around. But I knew Donnie was still shy around some more sensitive subjects, and wasn't rowdy like our bro's. Letting my hand fall from his shoulder, I retreated from the kitchen so as to be clear from the destruction that was to follow from Mike's contact with the appliances. Making my way to the couch, I recognised the furry head of my Sensei as he sat watching the news. Waiting for the weather, perhaps, since there didn't seem to be much of a story so far.

"Good morning my son." He greeted once I sat beside him. "I hope you slept well, Leonardo."

"I did, Sensei." I think. "And yourself?"

"I slept very peacefully. Although I must ask Donatello to attach the dark curtains behind my shoji once more. I fall asleep much faster if there is less light filtered through."

I nodded in understanding. There were some aspects of my father's rodent heritage which remained even after the mutation. One was his need to be in pitch darkness to have the most comfortable rest.

The T.V flaunted its pictures ahead of us as we sat in companionable silence listening to the droning of the reporters and the chorus of voices from the kitchen. Occasionally Sensei would ask something in regards to the preparation of the trip. I told him that Mikey was all packed, but we may have to go through his things with him and get his priorities straight with some of the useless belongings he seemed adamant about bringing with him. When he asked if our friends had been contacted, I said all but one. He stressed that I call the last one before 9:00 strikes, so that she is properly prepared when we retrieve her from her home. I assured him that I would.

As the minutes ticked by, I took calm, shallow breaths and recalled our previous venture to the countryside. Excited to be going back, but knowing that the week ahead would most definitely be a very, very long one. It always is on these family vacations. And this time there will be one extra. And who knows how that will go down with my family.


	4. Chapter 2: Preperations

Chapter 2

"You don't need a tennis racket."  
>"I totally do, man! Wait, wait! No-"<br>"You _don't need it_."

Much to his chagrin, I managed to wrestle the equipment from Mikey's hands with ease. I tossed it to the side with the rest of my confiscations and fixed him with a stern look as he pouted at the turn of events.

"I'm sorry, Mikey. You just cannot afford to take this much… this much junk with you."

"It's not junk!" He insistently pointed out, moving to stand before his remaining possessions protectively with his arms spread wide. "I really do need all of it!"  
>I glanced back and forth between my brother and his stock with one brow raised. I was fed up, at that point, by the same excuse he had been squawking since I lugged his bag back up to his room half an hour ago.<p>

After I had neatly sorted a small sum of my own belongings to take, I had told him, calmly, kindly, to sort through his own bag and put away at least half of the items which he did not need to take. It was a generous offer, one that he should have agreed to without complaint. And so I was mildly surprised when he completely refused to abandon a full half of his things.  
>It was childish, and much uncalled for, to be so stubborn about what he was and wasn't allowed to take with him. Caught in a state of confusion, I had asked the same thing several times before deciding on a game plan. When I threatened to pack him nothing but small knapsack of essentials and leave all the things he wanted to take behind, he cracked and let me move the case back to his bed and repack under his supervision.<p>

Now that I was almost finished and he was still testing me, I was very quickly losing my patience.

With exasperation rattling my ribcage, it became evident in my voice.  
>"Ok, Mike." I began, my tongue twitching to lash out and snap at him, "You've done this kind of thing before. Every time you do, you give in and do what you're told because you <em>know<em> that you have just _too much stuff. _So why, I daresay, do you need to take _all of this…_" I gestured towards the mountain of clothing and knick-knacks to my right, "…with you on our one week trip to a farmhouse in the middle of the woods?"

I stood with my arms crossed and stance wide, daring him to get smart with me. I was tired, and irritated, and he had gone too far with such a ridiculous little issue.

Reading my posture with recognition in his wide, azure eyes, Mikey lowered his arms in defeat at last. I and my brothers were completely familiar with each other's moods. Spending your entire life with someone had that effect on a person, especially if that person was related to you. Relieved, I relaxed feeling ready to walk out the door and leave my little brother to return his belongings to their respected places. Instead, he said something.

"It's just that, it'll be different this time."

I frowned in concern. An explanation? I wasn't expecting any real reason behind the minor setback in all of our preparations. Instincts kicked in as I scanned Michelangelo's face for signs of negative emotions. It was a big brother thing that I picked up long ago when the baby of the four of us used to climb into bed with me in the middle of the night. He used to have odd nightmares about the scary 'human' creatures that Father always said would hurt us if we ever went above ground. Mikey grew out of them quick when Donnie was old enough to install a television.

Finding no distress in my brothers features, I stepped a tad closer out of curiosity.  
>"Different?" I asked him. "Different, how?" He just shrugged, eyes glancing everywhere but at myself. There was a mischievous glint in them which aroused my suspicion. I thought for a moment about the idea. <em>Different? What could be so different about this vacation for him to pack so many things? Then again, Mikey always has over-exaggerated. What could have set him off this time…?<em>

A thought occurred to me, then.

"What?" I asked, looking at him questioningly, "You mean, because…Belle will be with us?"

If that was the case, then I could have been able to relate, in a way. Of course, not in the way that I would feel the need to bring everything I could get my hands on. Mikey seemed to have made that decision already.

"Nah," He assured. That was good. It wouldn't have made sense if it truly was the reason. But he was still looking almost diligently at the same spot on the stone floor

"Then what is it?" I was getting uncomfortable with his secrecy. If it was something serious, and it hardly ever was, then the experience of talking it out with my emotionally-orientated brother could take hours and drain my energy like water through a grate. And if it wasn't serious, then my brother could inherit the uncanny ability to clamp his mouth shut as tight as a zip line until he exposed what he had been hiding.

This, unfortunately for the rest of us, was usually some elaborate prank, designed to be either smushy, smelly, or to glue all of our mouths closed. It was generally something of the like. Mikey wasn't a very creative prankster.

It seemed to be the case, though, because as we stood there it became clearer and clearer that he was finding it difficult to keep a straight face.

Unsettled, I frowned in full preparation of figuring out what exactly he had in store for some unlucky victim. "Mikey-"

In a rush of movement, Mikey shot forward and spun me around. The words evacuating his mouth in an incessant gush of air which left me gasping as he drove me out the door.

"Ok, I'vegottagetreadynowbye!"

Mike's door slammed behind me as I discovered the open door of Donatello's room on the other side of the underground corridor. Said brother stood there blinking owlishly at me as though I had teleported, a round tin container grasped in his hands.

He opened it, tilting it just slightly so I could see what was inside.  
>"Ginger biscuit?"<p>

After I was sure of my bearings, I reached forward and took one of the treats gratefully. "What are these for?"

"They're actually Aprils." He explained as I took a bite, the ginger scent and taste making my mouth water. "She and Casey just got here, and she wanted me to hold onto them for the drive."

I grunted in approval as I chewed. "S'she baking 'gain?" April made the best goodies. One of the perks of being the good-behaved siblings meant Don and I could indulge in the older woman's baking whenever Mikey and Raph got into trouble.

"Yep." Don answered, closing the tin. "They're pretty good, huh?" He made to walk away, but seemed to remember something. "Oh, right! Master Splinter wants to know if you called Belle yet."

I swallowed, the remains of my biscuit following the contraction of my oesophagus. No, I hadn't called her. Too busy sorting Mikey's luggage for him.

"I'll call her now." I told my purple-banded sibling, standing up strait and crossing my arms as though in confirmation of my decision. He nodded and turned to walk towards the stairs, I followed.

The ground floor of the lair was buzzing with energy. Raph and Casey sat near the entrance, leaning on everyone's baggage and exchanging stories with light hearted punches. April and Splinter stood preparing multiple cooler boxes full of drinks and frozen's along with bags of less perishable food items to put in the farmhouse pantry. The rat and woman were engaged in a healthy conversation, going back and forth between subjects with a comfort found only in old, close friends.  
>Not that April was old. The young antique store owner was looking spritely with her strait, mid-length scarlet hair pulled back into a high ponytail. Wearing no make-up and a casual pair of shorts with worn trainers, April was looking more than ready for a good holiday.<p>

Don joined the pair at the kitchen table with the biscuit container, apparently returning to pack his own little bag of treats to keep under close surveillance from searching hands, while I made a U-turn to the telephone kept under the staircase. Beside the phone stand, we had compiled a list of names and phone numbers that we had gathered since our first trip topside at the age of 15. Two years later we had about a third of a page, bullet-pointed with spaces in between each line.

Belle was our most recent addition, coming in at the bottom of the short list a full seven months ago. We kept her close because she adored our existence, and we all appreciated her compassion and acceptance. It was just as we did with April and Casey two years prior and still, do to this day.

I glanced at the time briefly, 8:37, before punching in Belle's number and lifting the ear piece to my head.

I listened in silence to the faint ringing in my left ear, far enough away from the rest of the group to hear it clearly over their chatter. It rang for 8 seconds before a familiar voice picked up.

"H'lo?"

"Belle? Hi, it's Leonardo." By now I was used to the odd slur in her Boston speech. Belle spoke deeply, a low alto voice, and let her vowels echo around her mouth instead of speaking strait from her throat. She had explained a little after we met that her slight accent was because she was actually born in South Africa before her parents moved to Boston, and then again to New York a little over a year ago. She had spent nine years of her life in a place called Durban before coming to America. I sometimes wondered if she missed it.

She sounded excited when she responded. "Hey Leo! How's it goin'?"

"I'm fine. I called to make sure you're ready to leave."

"I'm almost ready. What uh… what time are guy's coming?"

"9:30. Remember."

"I will. M'just making sure."

She did sound like she was making sure of _some_thing. "Hmh… Making sure of what?"

"My parents and I usually leave for church around 9:00."  
>Ah, so she was wondering if there would be a confrontation.<p>

We obviously insisted that she was not to tell anyone about us when we met her seven months ago. We needn't of, though. She had promised not to tell a soul, on her honour. That included not telling her immediate family members too, and she often couldn't hang out due to her mother and father asking one too many questions about her whereabouts. She kept the subject of our existence out from under their noses with impulsive ease. As the successor of my little family, the one most burdened by the responsibility of keeping it safe, I was both indebted for and grateful of her protectiveness towards us.

"Thank you, Belle."

"No worries, Leo." There was the faint sound of an older woman calling her name. "I'll see you later, ok?"

I smiled. "Yeah, alright."

Someone called again, this time sounding annoyed. I could hear Belle calling back, slightly closer to the phone, her voice projecting in the opposite direction. I could tell when it was time to leave.

"Bye, Belle."

"Ba'Bye, Leo. Hey, stay safe, Ok?"

"Ok…"

I didn't hear any more.

As I stood listening to the hang-up tone I couldn't help but notice how unpleasant it was. It was a constant, boring sound which grated on my nerves. Shrill and dull. Not once did it hitch or pause, or even change its key. I couldn't even call it a tone, it was nothing. An absence of any other sound to call itself a tune. How rude of it to have interrupted my conversation.

I put the phone back on its holster, promptly ignoring it. I directed my gaze instead to Michelangelo at the sound of him racing down the stairs and towards the entrance where Raphael and Casey still resided. Thankfully, his suitcase looked significantly lighter. I only hoped he had cleaned up the mess in his room.

My train of thought was set in a little circle. I could only seem to think about my conversation with Belle as the clock ticked toward 9:00.

…_M'just making sure._

…_Making sure of what?_

…_We usually leave at 9:00._

_Thank you, Belle._

_No worries, Leo…_

No worries?  
>It suddenly occurred to me that Belle had had no way of knowing what I was thanking her for.<p>

I had thanked her for her consideration and protectiveness towards me and my family. A completely unrelated, private feeling which I had never mentioned to anyone at all.  
>Had she heard the implication of my gratitude in what I had said? Or had she been thinking the same thing, maybe?<p>

I shook my head. I was reading too much into a little thing like that. I knew Belle, had known her for seven months. She always had little Easter eggs like this hidden in her dialogue, completely unexplainable fragments of innermost knowledge which came from nowhere.  
>It was a quality that she shared with my Sensei, how he always knew when we were lying, or what we really mean when we say something else. Or nothing at all.<p>

The two actually got along very well. Well enough for my Father to invite her into his private quarters to meditate and discuss random interests over tea. From what I heard from him, she was becoming quite good at meditation. Not enough to transcend to the plain we are able to, but enough to fall into a deep, peaceful trance. I was pleasantly surprised that she was taking an interest.

"Yo, Leo!"

Startled, I looked towards the entrance to the lair, where everyone was carrying as many bags as they could hold and taking them outside. Raph was standing a little way away from the rest, waiting for me.

Time to go topside.

"I'm coming."

0o0o0o0o0o0

It took 15 minutes for us to get every bag and cooler out of the lair and then taken topside. I had carried a cooler under one arm and my own knapsack of belongings slung over one shoulder. Mikey was carrying the heaviest load, with his own suitcase still outweighing the rest of ours combined. On several occasions during our short walk to the nearest manhole cover he asked each one of us in turn if we would trade baggage with him. To which every one of us answered no.

When we reached the surface it took another 5 minutes to get everything into the back of Aprils van, which she had parked conveniently in the same dark and secluded alleyway as the manhole cover we exited from, and to assign everyone with a seat that they were at least comfortable with without causing any arguments.

The drive from the alleyway to Belles nice, wealthy apartment complex should have taken 10 minutes, if it weren't for New York traffic, and we finally arrived to pick her up 6 minutes late.

I could hear April honking the horn to get her attention from where we were parked just outside the small building. From where I, my brothers and Sensei sat in the back of the van, we could only wait for the double-doors to open and for Belle to walk inside with her own luggage.

Donnie sat waiting nearest to the door, dressed with no green skin visible under his trench coat and wide-brimmed hat, in case she needed help carrying anything in. I sat in lotus position in the centre of our side of the van, with Master Splinter knelt beside me. Opposite us were Mikey and Raph, whispering playfully and rebelliously against the prospect of silence. So far, Raph hadn't lost his temper, which eased the tension in my shoulders just slightly. The last thing we would have needed was for someone to blow their top when there were humans around.

I never liked being out in broad daylight, and knowing that just outside the vehicle people were going about their day blissfully unaware of the creatures inside made my skin crawl. What would those people do, if they could see through walls? More than likely, our lives would change dramatically for the worse.  
>So I sat in complete silence, listening intently to every little sound behind my head, right through the plastic and metal frame of the van. My heart and muscles straining when random passers-by came just a little too close for comfort.<p>

"_Leo!" _I heard Mikey whisper to me. I blinked at him. "_Lighten up, bruv. We're on a vaca', remember?" _I glared at him in refusal. He should have known better than to let his guard down.

"_Be quiet!"_ I ignored the concern on his and Raphael's faces as I closed my eyes and focused my Ki on the space around the outside of the van.

It was just a minute or two before familiar, soft footsteps made their way up to the passenger seat door outside. I became troubled when, instead of the footsteps coming around to the back of the van, the two front doors both opened and slammed shut, and I heard Aprils footsteps join Belles in walking back up to the apartments.

Seconds later one of the back doors opened, and my eyes snapped open as Casey's mop of raven hair and mug came into view through the gap.

"Belles folks stayed home from church." He said in way of explanation. "Askin' ta see an 'adult figure'." I tried to stay calm. There was nothing Belle could do to refuse her parents request, especially if we were right here. It was good that April was here to satisfy them. Casey too, but, I wasn't so sure a nice Christian family like Belles would consider him an 'adult figure'.

"Thank you, Mister Jones." Sensei said, and Casey disappeared from view, closing the door behind him.

"Man, I'm glad you're cool enough to let us go where we want, Master." Don told him, and he chuckled.

"Thank you, my son." He said, his whiskers twitching against his smile, "But we must not jump to conclusions. I am sure that Mr and Mrs Gregors are 'cool' in their own way as well."

5 minutes later footsteps approached the van once more, April's journeying around the front to climb back inside the driver's seat with Casey at her side. The back door opened again, and Donnie got up from his seat to retrieve a medium-sized black duffel bag from a pair of fair, feminine hands. The right one of which wore a signature silver ring on its ring finger, which gleamed in the light.

Belle stepped into the van quickly, and shut the door as Don placed her bag with the rest which separated him from where I was sitting. Once the outside world was cut off from view my brothers greeted her unanimously, and she smiled at them happily.  
>"Hey, guys!"<p>

When she looked to me, her smile turned soft.

"Hello again, Leonardo."


	5. Chapter 3: Road Trip

Chapter 3

Her eyes were searching and patient as she had spoken, but my breath had died in my throat before I could reply.

Any right-minded man could appreciate a pretty girl, but Belles was the type of pretty that if you saw her anywhere other than walking down a crowded street, you wouldn't pay that much attention to it. Her face just didn't look like it belonged in this day and age, if you took the time to truly look and make the comparison between her and other girls her age, you would be surprised at the culture and history in her features.

Though I had grown much during our many adventures topside, I could still remember the book of Renaissance artists from which Splinter chose our names way back when we were just little. Specifically, I remembered flicking through the pages in my spare time, and reading about an artist called Jean-Marc Nattier who painted many pictures of fair-faced woman with soft smiles and sincere, wise eyes. Belles depicted the same age-old wisdom, and she had the same likeness of colouring in her skin and hair. If not the exact same, then even more unique a contrast is made due to her heritage. Her angular face could rival some supermodels, but her skin was cream-coloured and her eyes laced with dark lashes. She had dark brown eyebrows which arched elegantly, and pink, cherub lips…

"Hello, Miss Gregors. It is a pleasure of you to join us this season."

I followed Master Splinter's example as he bowed his head to her in greeting. Belle repeated the action, and her curly hair bounced against her shoulders when she rose.

"Thank you for having me, Splinter-san." She said politely, and made to go sit next to him as the van revved to life.

"No, Belle. Sit by me!" Mikey crowed at her through a mouthful of chocolate cake. He swallowed what was in his mouth, frosting and crumbs painting his lips before he swiped it all off on his arm. Raph and Donnie cringed at the sight, both of them shifting where they sat to turn slightly in the opposite direction. I, likewise, would have preferred not to have seen that. I felt a little spark of annoyance at my youngest brother as Belle shrugged apologetically at my Father and me and changed course. As she approached him, Mikey scooted to his left and leant against the wall which separated us from the drivers' seats. "I'm gonna tell you everything about what's gonna happen this week, Bellie-Wellie." He told her elatedly when she lowered herself next to him. The van started moving as they both got comfortable with the new seating arrangements. The engine purred smoothly as we took off, and Don snapped open his trusted laptop placing it in his lap. Mikey continued, "We're gonna talk about fishing and cooking and camping and swimming in the lake and a whole bunch of other stuff! So, you just tell me to shut up if you don't want to hear any spoilers, Ok?" She nodded tolerantly, "Because trust me, you don't want to miss out on the full experience, Ok?"

She chuckled and nodded again. "It all sounds very exciting Mikey."

"Oh, it is!" He stated, carving a chunk of cake from the glad-wrap in his lap and stuffing it into his mouth. Belle developed an expression of amused incredulousness, one brow raised and a crooked smile on her face as Mikey carved out another piece and ate it almost impassionedly, smacking his lips and licking his fingers, his eyes glazing over slightly. He repeated this action once more, and was about to cut out another when Raphael, having watched the one-man feast with a twitching eyes until that point, shot out his hand and snatched the rest of the cake in its wrapping before Mike could touch it.

Everyone laughed as the turtle squawked in distress at the loss and tried to grab it back. But his red-banded brother held it out of his reach, smirking from over the top of Belles head. Mike huffed in defeat. Neither brother would wrestle for anything if a lady was in such close quarters. They had learnt the hard way with April that the repercussions of getting rough with each other when she was standing nearby could be dire. Of course, that was depending on whether or not you accidentally kicked her feet out from under her and sent her flying into her own fine china.

Chuckling at his sibling's expense, Raph whipped out his own sai and swiftly sliced a neat piece of cake for himself with a twitch of his hand. Seemingly remembering his manners, he held the remaining amount to Belle questioningly.

"Ya wan' some?" He asked sparingly to the honey-haired girl. Her eyes fleeted over the mass of chocolate mud, which was looking as though it had been through a junk compressor and then thrown at a wall. She looked back up at him, just her eyes looking to the side. My own wariness of the cake clued me in to her impression, and I think I had already known what her answer would have been before she had said it.

"No thank you, Raph." Her little smile didn't waver. "You help yourself."

Raph obliged quite contentedly.

OoOoOoOo

Under typical conditions, it took just over 5 hours to get to Casey's Grandmas farmhouse for every road trip and then the same amount of time to drive back to New York. Knowing this, I settled myself into a more comfortable seating position after at least 20 minutes of driving through the city. I relaxed slightly at the fact that there would be less prying eyes around us once we had made it outside the city limits. Don, sitting comfortably to the left of me, always liked tracking our progress on his own enhanced GPS system, and he had had his laptop open on his lap for the majority of the time in the van. Raph eventually joined in on Mikey and Belles conversation once he had finished his cake, while Mikey, as promised, talked animatedly of our past experiences in and around the Jones' country home.

Belle listened as my brothers spoke of every exciting, embarrassing and pleasurable memory which came into their heads. Mikey kept going into extreme descriptions of all the places around the farm which we had gone to and explored. This included but was not limited to the woods, the river, the lake and the fields that surrounded the house. With each illustration, Belles facial expressions varied from patient, to engaged, to amused, and to awed. She would ask humbling questions about the sights and environment whenever her interest peaked, and left my brothers speechless just momentarily every time she did, after which they each considered and responded in regards to their own judgments. It was refreshing to see them both grow so modest so easily when faced with the non-committal enquiries asked of them during their conversation.

It was the complete opposite of their behaviour during training, or when asked of something by Sensei. I supposed that it was a quality that a lot of people shared, to feel more relaxed and speak easier when not faced with a situation requiring full commitment. I made a note of this new quality of theirs, and enjoyed listening to my brothers describe their opinions so openly on the few instances that they were asked a question.

Belles' wide eyes as she patiently waited for my brothers replies projected her own deference in volumes, and I found myself grateful for another time to have her in our circle of friends.

Occasionally, Don would cut in with some facts and figures to make the girls eyes widen just minutely in wonder. And Raph would speak of action, and performing heated stunts in the outdoors which made her brows furrow just slightly in concern. Every brother had asked our silent Sensei to tell of their inspiring tales, to agree with their statements and give praise for their storytelling. Of me, they asked the same. But while our Father spoke from his viewpoint of each event in willing participation of the discussion, I simply smiled and nodded. Listening and watching the exchange fervently.

I couldn't help but feel anxious with Belle sitting directly opposite me in the van. I didn't know what it was which made me feel that way, it definitely wasn't offbeat having Belle with us in the van, with us on our vacation. As a matter of fact it felt almost ordinary, the way everyone was getting along. But it was just slightly… unnerving, like knowing that you're being followed. I had, many times, felt as such when training or patrolling on the rooftops of buildings in the city.

Most times, it turned out to be one or all of my brothers having come to keep me company, or to bring me back home. Sometimes, it was something more sinister, Foot Ninja or Purple Dragons usually. Through practice and experience, it had become sort of instinctual to sense when I wasn't alone. And I was soon capable of being able to tell whether I was accompanied by a potential threat or a familiar face. No matter how many times I had felt this similar feeling, not once had my senses ever been misguided.

Now, however, as I sat in relative comfort surrounded by people I had come to know as close friends and family. The intrusive sensation of cooling hot wax merging, tingling in my chest made me want to get up and move. To do something instead of just sitting in, as my heart told me, a vulnerable position. Though my senses demanded my attention, they offered no account of the source, their purpose. Perturbed, I realised that I had no idea what I was dealing with. Having no idea usually foretells something very, very bad to happen.

Especially in my line of work

'_This_…' I reflected as my eyes studied Belle from feet away, '…_new arrival__, this …additional companion. Belle. She doesn't feel threatening like Foot Ninja, but she also isn't familiar._

'_But_…' I rubbed my hand over my eyes. '_She_ is _familiar_, _at the same time? No, she…she's familiar but it's not very_ comforting,_ like it usually is with family or friends. But_…'

Peeking through my fingers, I focused on the girl at issue. She laughed, her eyes crinkling at the edges affectionately at a comment made between the turtles on either side of her. Her voice was thick velvet, her laughter sounded like the long, residual notes of a piano. And a little dimple had formed in her right cheek, following the upturning curve of her lips.

_'It doesn't feel_ dis_comforting either_.'

I could feel a headache coming on.

"Isn't that right, Leo?"

"Hmm?"

I tucked my hand back into the crook of my other arm where it was folded across my chest. I set my mouth in a line and regarded the trio in front of me.

"I said," Michelangelo's smile stretched when he had my attention. "You really pummelled us the vacation before last, remember? When it was your turn to host the competition?"

"Oh yeah." I remembered the day fondly, and my mouth quirked up at the reminder. "That was a good day."

"Yeah, yeah good times an' all that." Raph rolled his eyes good-naturedly, "It was good for you ta satisfy ya' sadistic needs, ya control freak." We exchanged a glance, and I knew he was only jesting. Both of us were drawn to Belle as her observing gaze flickered between us with curiosity, and we watched as she raised her brow inquisitively to the emerald turtle in silent question. Raph understood and explained helpfully, "See, Leo set up dis obstacle course at da beginnin' of autumn." He sent me his customary smirk and nodded in my direction. "Cause, y'know, evil mastermind ova' dere's gotta make sure 'is minions are in top form."

Belle giggled at his joke, and my face grew hot. Swiping a hand across my cheek to try and dispel the feeling, I noticed my hot-headed brother raise a brow at me, still smirking. I blinked at him, wondering for a moment if he was mocking me for some reason. His lips parted, and his smirk became wide and toothy. I was sceptical of him as he turned to look back at Belle. Who did he think he was?

I concluded, haughtily and in my head, that his good behaviour hadn't lasted very long this vacation at all. It was a new record, I was sure of it.

I watched my sibling unfalteringly as Raph continued explaining, "'Took us a whole mornin' ta complete, an' when it was ova'? Leo made us play cat' n' mouse in da woods! Las' one ta get caught wins." He shook his head reproachfully. "Ya know how hard it is ta hide from a masta' ninja in da woods? We was all duckin' and runnin' around till our knees started bleedin'." He looked at me again to bring full attention to his blatant disapproval, "Ya hear dat, Fearless?"

I smiled at him. "I did. Thank you, Raphael, for the compliment." I was the one that they were all hiding from.

Mikey and Belle both laughed at my retaliation, and I was pleasantly surprised that Raph gave a little chuckle along with the others as well. He didn't try to retort either, which was entirely unusual and unanticipated.

"But," Belle began delicately, a new question in her eyes. "It was a competition?" The unspoken part of the question was obvious in her tone. She hadn't known about any competition.

"Mikey, you haven't told her yet?" Donnie spoke up from next to the bags and coolers, his face and hazel eyes illuminated by the white light of the device he held.

"Oh yeah!" Mike sat a little straighter. He looked to Belle and she regarded him calmly. "I forgot. I was so busy telling you what happens on Family Vacation that I left out the best part of what happens on Family Vacation!"

Belle blinked and laughed at him, finding amusement in his statement. "How did you manage that?"

"I don't know!" He defended himself with a pout. "I was otherwise occupado, Brah! But I'm telling you now, Kay?"

"We will all assist in explaining our tradition to Miss Gregors." Sensei claimed. The rat master still knelt comfortably to my right, and rested his walking stick across his legs. At his words, the clic-clakking of Donnie's keyboard ceased, and the elder was under everyone's ready gazes.

"Miss Gregors," He began, "For every new season we return to Mister Jones's country home, we also choose one individual of our group to host one day of challenges: One challenge in the morning, and one in the afternoon. The choice of, preparation for and judgement of each challenge falls to the chosen host, and the rest of us are the competitors."

Don picked up after Splinter trailed off expectantly. "The competitors scores from each challenge are combined at the end of the day. The host is allowed to give the first set of scores in the first challenge, but not the second otherwise…"

"It'll ruin the surprise!"

"Yes, thank you Mikey. It's basically something we do for one day of the seven that we get to stay at the farmhouse." Don summarised.

"And da winner o' tha competition gets a different prize every time." Raph added. "So you neva' know what'cha getting 'till ya get it."

"Huh." Belle exclaimed. "It sounds… cool. Interesting." Her eyes spaced out for a second or two as she processed every titbit of information. "Is there usually some kind of limit or boundary to the challenges?" She asked the lot of us. "Or what you can win?"

"Sensei and Leo are, like, the refs." Mikey offered. Folding his arms behind his head and crossing his legs. "They keep things under wraps."

I was intrigued by the depth and definition of her eyes as Belle visibly registered the reply. She blinked just once before snapping her gaze from Mike to me. "Suitable." She approved and beamed at me kindly. My heart warmed, hearing the compliment though it was subtle, and I sent her a genuine smile. Although my shoulders had still tensed of their own accord at the sudden attention from those intense orbs.

"That's two hours done guys!" Don announced as he stared into the screen of his pc. "Three more to go. Who wants snacks?"

Woops and cheers sounded from our red and orange brothers and I nodded enthusiastically as my stomach groaned at the idea. I smiled at Donnie with appreciation, "If you're serving up some of those ginger biscuits I'm all in, Don."

"There are ginger biscuits?" Belle looked to me for confirmation, her dark aqua eyes gleamed eagerly.

"Yeah." I said, contemplating her. "Some really nice ones that April made. You like ginger?"

"I love ginger." She elaborated, her features melting in delight while Raph and Mike shuffled across the floor to sit with the resident genius and his bag of goodies.

I maintained my eye contact with her, glad to engage in casual small talk after hours of saying very little. "I also love ginger. Just the taste of it, so spicy but also kind of tangy." I indulged in sharing my taste. Belle was one of those people who you could say anything to.

"And so good for you too." She agreed. "And…you like," She studied me with narrowed eyes, and I had the impression that she was seeing far more than just what her eyes were telling her. "Lemon curd, right?"

"I wouldn't know." I shrugged. "I've never tried it."

"No?"

"No."

"Wow." She grinned. "Well, I recommend it. If you like Aprils ginger biscuits, then you'd probably like lemon curd biscuits, too." She glanced pointedly at her bag. "I've got some with me. You just tell me if you want any."

I was caught up in her friendly nature, and was smiling back at her. "I will remember that, Miss Belle."

She flashed her teeth, her grin expanding as she giggled light-heartedly. I chuckled at her. "What?"

She kept her grin wide and entertained as she spoke. "No need for formalities, Mister Leonardo."

"You just called me 'Mister'."

"Great minds think alike."

My smile wavered at that. Her statement was harmless, naturally. But something implied that she truly believed it. "You…" I surveyed her expression wonderingly. "…think we are alike?"

Her eyes widened, but her smile didn't fall all the way. Instead, the little dimple to the left of her mouth remained, while her head tilted in contemplation of me. I found myself unable to look away from the intensity of her gaze.

"No." She said lowly, softly. "We are capable of thinking alike."

I gulped.

There was an upsurge of sound when she looked away, my brothers chatting and laughing at something I couldn't catch. The buzzing in my brain was numbing, and I remembered to thank Donnie for handing me a couple of April's biscuits. I chewed slowly, savouring the taste. Spicy and tangy, with that hint of sweetness. I sighed happily, the spice of ginger revived my senses and life flared with activity in my head once more. Looking to the newest member of our group, I observed Belles own delight birth from the treat.

She hummed in approval of the delicacy, noticing me. "'t's kinda soft, isn't it?"

Yes, I agreed. Soft but intense.


	6. Chapter 4: Waiting

Chapter 4

It was mid-afternoon, and the light of the sun shone imposingly in the west-side of the sky. Its brilliance extended far beyond its throne between the clouds, bright rays stretching down into the thick foliage surrounding the Jones' country home making the leaves on all the trees glow in a radiant green which would make turtles everywhere proud to be.

My eyes raked over the tops of the woodland, and then skimmed the tall grass which surrounded the dirt road leading to the barn and farmhouse. It was all a familiar sight, and after just five one-week trips to this same location. It seemed almost sad that I was becoming so accustomed to the beautiful scenery, something which I was sure many humans back in New York all took for granted themselves. It was easy on the senses all the same. The pollen was thick in the air and tasted soft and savoury on my tongue, and listening to the faint rustle and buzz of nature somehow made the hour and a half previously spent with Donatello's sleeping bulk slouched over my torso seem almost bearable. But, Mikey had taken many photographs with future blackmail at mind, and Donnie had started drooling over my plastron after the first twenty minutes. Meditation can only take your mind off of so many things.

I had hastily made my way out the van doors as soon as the opportunity had presented itself, making a note to help unload the luggage later. The second half of the trip was always worse than the first, by tradition. The stars aligned in the last three hours, and almost everyone was looking to cause trouble. Don's laptop died, as a start, causing the engineer to become restless. My peaceful brother had to be restrained from disassembling his shell-cell, since it was on a previous vacation that we had set the ground-rule of not being permitted to so much as touch anyone else's while on the road. Raph had finally lost his temper and whacked Mikey over the head when the youngest had cracked some joke about his 'cute button nose'. The two began brawling not long after that, breaking their mutual agreement to refrain from doing so with Belle sitting between them. She was unharmed, thankfully. But mostly because they had managed to topple the unsteady pile of luggage right onto poor Donatello's unsuspecting head before they had the chance. The tech-turtle emerged, dead laptop in his hands, and promptly swung it at both of their heads with a trained accuracy. The three of them were sporting bruises half an hour after that and Donatello had had to squeeze in to the left of me, shoving aside random bags and cooler boxes in order to fit. Mikey and Raph, on Sensei's orders, sat as far apart from each other as they could at opposite ends of the van, and Belle sat unflinching exactly where she had sat hours before. Looking uncomfortable, she had retreated to unwind in her own company, thoughts whirring behind the glaze that settled over her eyes.

She might have had an escape, but I did not. The sequence of events was not without commentary and a few stinging words had been spouted in my direction on several instances. Most were rebuttals meant to sway me into minding my own business, attempts which only served to strengthen my resolve. Mind my own business? I was the leader! The entire team was my business, and that was a concept that my brothers could never get through their heads.

I was fully irked and evolved into a snapping dragon by the time the ordeal was over with. When the van finally pulled over, and Donnie was effectively peeled off of my shoulder, my only thought and instinct was to bolt and seek out a quiet place to sit and meditate up a hurricane.

But that, unfortunately, was not what duty had in mind.

"Let me take that." I told Raph as he made to unload an armful of luggage from the back, "Pass me the next one as well. We'd better get this out of the way."

The hothead didn't look happy being told what to do. But even he couldn't get ticked when someone offered him some practical help. Grumbling nonsense under his breath, Raphael tossed me his armful and bent to pick up the next. This just happened to include Mikey's obese suitcase.

"Freeze, Mike." I said without looking behind me. He did, standing paralyzed in classic tip-toe position, trying to sneak his way past before being asked for assistance, so predictable… "Take your bag up to our room. And also take one of the coolers to the kitchen. You don't want the ice-cream to melt, do you?" I added, heaving the luggage in my arms onto one shoulder with dexterity.

Mikey obeyed, not without exaggerating a loud 'Oof!' when Raphael dropped his things unceremoniously into his arms. I ignored the two of them as they began meaningless banter, stepping forward to retrieve a black duffel bag perched near the doors inside the van.

A fair, five-fingered hand descended to the bag at the same time as mine, and I retracted my arm as Belle scooped the thick strap in her grasp, lifting it and slinging it over her shoulder, the duffel dangling to settle against her thin waist.

I watched as she revealed a pair of dark sunglasses from a pouch in the bag, and covered her eyes before hopping delicately out the back of the van and into the sunlight. The duffel bag swung ominously as she manoeuvred herself, and I cringed at the unnatural angle of her shoulders as she repositioned the strap to where it didn't seem quite that much more comfortable. _I should probably do something about that…_

A heavy sigh, "Long drive, huh?" What? It was difficult to discern whether or not she was talking to me. The dark glasses did nothing to help either.  
>I contemplated the tone of her voice. The exasperation was well hidden but it was there, beckoning underneath a balancing act of strained patience. It wasn't often that someone could push Belle anywhere near this point, and I felt guilty for being part of the reason that the drive was as painful as it was. She was sensitive to others emotions. More so, I believed, than even her own. And I could imagine, now, how it must have felt to have been her in the last legs of the trip to New Hampton.<p>

"Yeah, it was." I agreed, hanging my head in apology. "Listen, about the argument. I'm sorry to have…"  
>Belle's head turned towards me, I could make out the outline of her eyes through the dark lenses of her glasses. "I mean, it was foolish of me… of, of us to…" Her head was slowly tilting to the side, watching me. Her lips pouted minutely in concentration, I could see her brow furrow concernedly.<br>"We, um…" I shut my eyes, "We should have paid more attention to you. But we didn't. We forgot you were there and you shouldn't have had to endure any of us behaving that way."

I had it all out in one breath; an odd thumping in my chest had my mouth running on a different tempo than what was intended. Realising this, I suddenly desired to apologise for that as well. Completely bizarre, I alleged, and I had the dignity to resist the temptation.

"Don't worry about it." Belle assured, adjusting the strap over her shoulder again. Her head had turned to look towards the farmhouse, her scrutinising behaviour depleted. "It's nothing to be ashamed of. Lots of regular families do it." Something seemed to occur to her then, and a sad smile graced her features. "My cousins used to fight all the time. Still do, sometimes…"

I listened, interested.

"They said far more hurtful things…"

I frowned, a protective element clicked into place in my chest. "To you as well, right?"

She flinched in surprise and snapped her head back to face mine. I blinked in confusion, but then realised what I had said.

"Oh." _Stupid_. "I didn't mean to-"

"It's okay." Belles hand rose to her face, and her fingers traced the arc of her eyebrow in what appeared to be a comforting gesture. I had seen her do this before, when she was tired or anxious. She never truly confided in why she did it, or where the gesture originated from. It was just another thing I had learned to live with.  
>"It's okay." She repeated quietly. "They really didn't know any better at the time, we were just kids and," She paused, "I was a lot more sensitive back then."<p>

That still sounded sketchy to me. Protective instincts flared in my chest like signals to a passing ship. But there were more pressing matters at hand, I decided. Like making it up to Belle for my big mouth.

She had begun walking towards the farmhouse, feet slightly unsteady with the weight still hanging precariously to her side. I cringed again at the disconcerting slant of her shoulders in the effort to carry it.

"That looks heavy." I remarked, catching up to her. She glanced at her baggage upon hearing my statement, and readjusted the strap yet again in sudden discomfort.

"It's not that bad." She said indifferently, and glanced at the load that I carried on my shoulder before hanging her head to observe the dusty path under her stepping feet. "_Yours_ looks heavy."

I continued undeterred by her misdirection, and reached out my free hand in offering, "Let me carry it for you."

"_That,_" She stated dryly, "is _very_ kind. But I can carry it." I smiled; entertained that she had seemed to have made up her mind about the matter. Even more humorous was the satisfied little smirk which quirked at the corners of her mouth.

_That's cute. _I thought. _She thinks this is over._

"It's still a little walk to the house." I persuaded. The walk from the van to the house was longer than it needed to be, since Casey and Raph had decided a few seasons ago that the space originally meant for cars and larger vehicles directly in front of the barn was from that point on reserved for their specialized dirt bikes. So we now had to leave the van all the way at the entrance to the clearing, the only other place on the lot where there was enough space to park. They had even built a little outcropping from the top of the enormous barn door, supported with stilts, to shelter their precious motorcycles from any weather conditions. April had been less than amused.

"I've got it, really." Belle assured. I raised a brow.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. You go on ahead."

I almost spluttered. "What, and leave you?" She laughed at that. An unamused, almost gloomy laugh which left me felling utterly confused for a few seconds.

"It's okay, Leo." She chuckled. "You don't have to stay." She nodded her head pointedly in the direction of the house. "Everyone is already inside. You should join them."

"Not everyone…" I said, trying to wrap my head around her reasoning. "You're still here. Why should I leave you alone?" She hummed softly, smiling at me. I wasn't amused. Why did she think she was here if it wasn't so we could all spend some actual time with her? Time lost tens of times over because of her promise to keep our secret.

Belle kept walking, and I found myself jogging forward a few steps to stop her in her path.  
>"Whoa, wait a second." She stopped and looked at me curiously, steadying her footing so as not to topple over with the added weight of her duffel bag.<br>"Why should I leave you alone?" I said again. Insistency made my words clips and crisp, and Belles frame withdrew to lower her head nervously, and her feet shuffled on the ground. At least I had her full attention.

"You are faster than me." She said in way of explanation. "And stronger…" Her voice was shaky as she spoke, and I regretted being so abrupt with her. "You shouldn't have to wait up for me." She almost whispered the last part. "You have better things to do, I'm sure."

I was speechless. The way she said it, with such sincerity, had me confused beyond what I had expected. What did she mean exactly? That she thought I was better than her?

That didn't sound true, I surmised. Belle was unconventional, never one to use labels, and disliked societies 'imaginary lines and barriers' as she referred to them once or twice. It formed a nice big chunk of her personality, and was part of the reason that she was so accepting of us in the first place. It didn't seem at all likely that she would think me out of her league, nor the opposite for that matter.

"I don't get it." I admitted. "Are you saying I _should _leave and join up with the others, just because I _can_?"

"It isn't about _ability_." She said after a moment, "It's about preference…"

_What?_

"What?"

"You _can _join up with the others," She elaborated, standing taller as she always did when speaking with a passion. "You can make it back to them in no time at all. Just the same as you can… stay here with me," She faltered for a second, "without wasting any energy. The difference is preference."

Something clicked, and it didn't sound much better than my first guess.  
>"You think that I would rather spend my time with them then with you."<p>

She considered my statement, shooting glances at little pebbles at our feet before meeting my gaze through her sunglasses.

"Yes." She shrugged shyly, "It's in a nutshell but, yes."

I didn't know what to say. Did I pity her? Was I sympathetic? Not likely. She seemed to be perfectly at peace with the prospect. I went with the next obvious question.

"_Why_?"

"Because they are your family. There is…" She took a moment to choose her words. "…never a choice with family." She looked me in the eye. "Especially in your case, I think."

Yes, she was right, I realised. It was not only my honour which made me strive to be the leader, the eldest brother. My family was a little circle that no one could ever be allowed to exit. Whether by leaving on their own or… Taken. By an enemy.  
>The faces of past foes flickered behind my closed eyelids, and I rushed to combat them. When I opened my eyes Belle still stood in front of me, her gaze was questioning, and no longer scrutinizing. Eyes glimmering in concern with the little light that shone through her dark lenses.<p>

I was beginning to thoroughly dislike those sunglasses.

My brothers didn't seem to understand. Everything that happened to _my_ family concerned me. Our circle was all we had and, perhaps it was just me who noticed, but, though we were small in numbers, together we were strong. And we needed to stay that way, no matter what.

I spared a minute to observe the honey-haired girl before me, dark blonde curls hanging buoyantly over her collarbone like hanging moss. Elegant brows raised in concern for me. Me. A mutant turtle.

I wondered why she had abandoned her steely, searching gaze. Because looking at her then, she had seemed lost. No, not lost. Waiting.

I recognised the diplomacy in her action. She would not pry into a subject which was private, which I had deliberately chosen to keep from her. Belle was sensitive to others emotions, after all. More so than her own. She kept to herself, but relished in the souls and spirits of those around her.  
>So there she waited. She would not pry; she wasn't the one with the big mouth.<br>Our circle was strong, but it was divided with imaginary lines and barriers. We needed to stay together to stay strong. Stay strong so we could afford to stay together. That was what I strived for. No one was allowed to leave.  
>But, we were small in numbers.<p>

Protective instincts flared to life in my chest as I stared at Belle. Beautiful, ancient, sincere.

_She's familiar, but, not familiar at the same time. _

She was waiting, waiting to be let in.

"Allow me." I requested, and Belle offered little resistance as I relieved her of the weight which hung from her shoulder.

"U-um…Wha?" She exclaimed as I slung her duffel bag over my free shoulder. "But…"

"I've got it." I assured her.

"Thank you." She said at last. And she subconsciously rubbed at the chafed spot on her clavicle where the thick strap of the duffel had rested.

"No problem." I smiled at her. "Come one. We'd better go join the others."

"O-okay." I heard her shuffle along behind me, and slowed my steps briefly so that she could catch up. I frowned at her dark sunglasses as she walked in tempo with me.

"Those glasses, where did you get them?" I asked her after a short while, and she looked up at me casually, apparently adapting to the change in tempo just fine. I was glad to see that she was walking tall and straight without the duffel to weigh her down.

"My dad got them for me. I can never remember the brand. Do you like them?" She enquired.

I looked away. "They're okay, I guess."

We made it to the house in no time at all, and I paused at the foot of the porch steps to let her go ahead of me. As she crossed under the roof of the patio her skin paled a considerable amount, and it occurred to me that I had never really seen my friend in natural sunlight before.

"Hey guys! Took you long enough!" Mikey emerged from the kitchen as we walked in, holding a big metal bowl with white flour flying from the edges as he whisked it with whatever other substances were inside. "Dude's you've gotta help make space in the fridge for all the stuff we brought. Apparently Casey came here for a weekend away about a month's back and forgot that he packed the place with his stash!" He disappeared back into the kitchen with a cloud of billowing flour in his wake.

"What is Casey's 'stash'?" Belle asked me after a few seconds, and I dropped the load from my shoulders onto the pile on the floor with the rest of the luggage.

"I don't know. Probably beer and beef jerky." She chuckled and retrieved her duffel from the pile.

"April told me where my room is. I'm gonna check it out, 'kay?"

"Okay."

She crossed the living room, not sparing her inspection of the old, comfortable home as she made her way up the stairs. She did, however, spare her poor shoulder another round with her bag, and managed her way with the weight by arm strength alone.

I watched her as she left the room, and called out to her before she was completely gone form view. "Belle!"

She retreated back a sure step on the old stairs and looked at me curiously.

I took a deep breath as she watched me, and looked her straight in the eyes as I told her,  
>"I hope you enjoy it here."<p> 


End file.
